A deal with consequences - Pritkin POV
by Solembum7
Summary: Pritkin POV; The story is set after Pritkin had been thrown out of hell. He returns to his house for the first time and there's a tough job to do, leading to momentous deals.
1. Chapter 1

John paused in front of the slightly overgrown fence, his hands clenching on the wood to stop them from trembling. Years had passed since he had abandoned the house that horrible night, on earth even more than a decade, but to him it felt like it had been only yesterday.

The garden in front of the old farmhouse was eerily quiet, as if it wouldn't dare to disturb his dark thoughts. It was cold and the fog of the passing night still hung among the nearby trees.  
None of which mattered to him, when the memories came rushing back in colourful, merciless pictures, trying to drown him, to tear him down.

Get a grip, dammit, John reproved himself, but it seemed impossible. And honestly... screw it.

During the last weeks he had tried to prepare himself for this. He'd thought about how it would feel, searched for tactics and mechanisms to deal with the memories that ripped him apart from the inside.  
He hadn't found any - or maybe he had, but standing in front of the house he couldn't seem to remember even one. His brain seemed to work on slow motion as if his thoughts had to wade through mud. Anger, desperation and loss fought to take over, but all of them combined couldn't overrule the gnawing pain of his guilt.  
He stubbornly ignored the growing hunger that was building underneath and took a deep breath to brace himself for his upcoming duty.

It is necessary, he tried to remind himself of the reason why he had come here. This had to be done and he was the one who had to do it.  
After all he owed her at least this much.  
No, he owed her so much more, but there was nothing else he could do.  
She was gone.  
She was dead.  
He had killed her.

The wood beneath his hands protested with an audible crack that sounded almost like thunder, breaking through the stillness that surrounded him. John winced slightly, forced down another deep breath and went further through the garden and into the house.

He was expecting it to hurt, but nothing could have prepared him for this. Pure hatred burned in his throat hot and violent. He'd thought he couldn't hate himself any more than he already did, blaming himself for her death.  
He was wrong.  
His self-hate seemed to increase with every step he went further into the house.

John quickly passed the living room and headed for the kitchen. He ignored the cobwebs and the disgusting smell of some decaying animal and started rummaging in one of the lower cabinets. After he carefully set five or six potion vials with questionable and surely unhealthy contents on the kitchen counter, he finally found what he was looking for.  
He pulled out the big bottle of Hell's finest and plopped the plug with his thumb before he took a deep draft. Whenever there had been a time for a drink, this was it, he decided. He drank another few gulps straight from the bottle, before he refilled the smaller bottle that he kept in the pocket of his coat. It didn't help much, but it was a start and the worst part was yet to come.

Taking the bigger bottle with him, he forced himself to go for the stairs. The kitchen had to wait, because he wouldn't be able to hang around in the house, knowing that her belongings were still up there - as if she would be back any minute.  
He just couldn't stand that.

When he finally he reached their bedroom, he could hear his pulse in his ears.  
The room was exactly how he'd left it, disregarding the more than ten years lack of housekeeping. One of the pillows lay on the floor, the two blankets still intertwined on the bed under a layer of dust with noticeable moth damage here and there. The once blue sheets looked grey in the meantime. Small particles of dust flew through the air, caused by the unexpected intruder, highlighted by the first lights of dawn which broke through the fog and through the window on the other side.

The memory hit him deep in the gut. He saw her face, showing her lovely and beautiful smile, the happiness shining in her brown eyes. He painfully remembered the soft touch of her lips on his, the sweet caress of her kiss, her irresistible scent. She had trusted him, had kissed him passionately, had laid her fate into his hands. And he had so terribly failed her.

He remembered vividly how amazing it had felt to feed on her power at the beginning, but the image immediately changed. She had finally screamed, realizing horrified and panicked that her plan had gone terribly wrong. But he hadn't been able to stop. He remembered how her skin had dried, how her beautiful brown hair had changed, how she had crumbled, dying in his arms. All in a matter of seconds. A terrible image that was his constant companion ever since. His constant reminder of what he was.

Of the monster he was.

The murderer.

He forced himself to concentrate on his self-hate and anger. Otherwise he was sure he'd lose it. Which would be just as well, he thought, but he couldn't stand the thought of some stranger rummaging about in her clothes. That was why he had to stay sane - at least sane enough - long enough to get the job done, he reminded himself.

He took the bottle and poured down a long one. Man up and get it over with, he told himself.

John went to the wooden cupboard and quickly grabbed both hands full of clothes. He consciously avoided to take a closer look. But when he turned back around, his gaze unexpectedly crossed a pile of white cloth lying on the floor beside the bed.

He froze.

John felt how tears of fury and despair began to water his eyes, but he knew he couldn't afford that now, so he stubbornly fought them back. His chest felt like being crushed underneath tons of weight or like a rope was slung tight around him, with someone pulling it closer and closer, choking him.

"Bugger all, concentrate dammit!" he muttered to himself, his voice sounding weird and out of place within all that surrounding silence.

He put the pile of clothes on the bed, sat down and took another drink. And then another one.  
His jaw clenched tight, he finally grabbed the dress and the other clothes before he went downstairs again.  
As soon as he left the house through the backdoor he heard it. The steady - if a little nervous - heartbeat of another person.

Sud it. He hadn't expected him to be here so soon.

"You might as well show yourself, I know you're there," his voice was harsh. To his surprise it wasn't Jonas, like he had expected. But then, Jonas wouldn't have tried to sneak up on him, at least not without using a silencespell to hide his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing. He knew better than that.

The intruder's voice was steady when he spoke. Bonus point for courage, three points discount for risking his life so easily, John thought.  
"Mr. Pritkin? I'm here to accompany you to the headquarter."  
John sighed. Of course you are.  
"Thanks, but I know the way", he answered with a cold voice, not even turning around to face him.  
"I'm afraid I have to insist, Sir."  
The guy had balls, you had to grant him that, John mentally approved. Or maybe he was just damned stupid. He stopped to put the clothes slowly and accurately on the ground before he turned.

A young man with brown hair stood beside the house. He wore a long brown leather coat and black boots and gave off a wildly flickering but nonetheless strong magical energy. A dim green shield slightly flowed around him. The war mage straightened his shoulders.

"And why is that?" John mentally counted to ten. He wouldn't kill the guy for just being a pain in the ass, even if it was tempting.

"General Marsden put me on watch and I was ordered to report directly to him, if you'd show up. He hadn't finished teaching his class yet, so I left him a note and went to make sure you wouldn't escape."

"I get it. You figured it would impress the boss if you'd bring me back." The poor guy obviously didn't know Jonas at all. And he certainly didn't know anything about him. Even under good circumstances he wouldn't call himself patient, right now… right now, to his surprise, he realized, that a part of him welcomed the unwanted distraction.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I'm not going anywhere. If Jonas wants something he has to drag his ass up here himself. Feel free to quote me. You'll find the exit on your own." John didn't wait for a response and turned around.  
When he bent down to pick up the pile of clothes he felt the sizzling energy of a spell passing right next to the side of him. A huge split appeared on the sundial a few feet away and a few tiny stone shards crumbled down to vanish in the high grass.

Sure. Why not.  
He wondered what the hell Jonas had told them who he was. John turned to face the mage again, raising one eyebrow.  
"You dare to threaten me, mage? Alone and in my own garden?" His voice was calm.  
"I sure as hell won't just watch you burn evidence!" The young war mage managed a superior look on his face, but John wasn't fooled. He could hear his frantic heartbeat. Must be a newbie, he thought, obviously he hadn't heard the rumors about him in the HQ yet. Maybe there weren't much left, after all that time. Or he was just too arrogant to believe them.

"I assure you, I'm not burning any evidence. But this is none of your business and believe me, you do not want to pick a fight with me right now," he told him acidly.

John saw the slight tightening in his muscles and had enough. He muttered a single word before the newbie was able to throw a spell. The result was impressive.

The vines that grew besides the sundial came eagerly to life and the long roots peeled themselves off the ground, reaching for the unwanted intruder within an eyeblink. The newbie looked a bit shell shocked and was distracted for a second which was all John needed. He threw two spells in the meantime. The first one plopped the guys shields, so that the second one could hit. With another muttered word he forced the vines to retreat before they would rip the poor guy to shreds.

Newbie fell to the ground like a sack potatoes.

Now, that was easier than he had expected, he thought, almost a little disappointed. John silently added another three points discount for sheer stupidity, shook his head and turned back to his duty.


	2. Chapter 2

He found a spot a few feet away from the bench that was far enough from the trees but not too far from the house. After he put the pile of clothes down, he went back to pick up the rest of her belongings.

When he crossed the living room, his eyes focused on the picture of her, standing on the shelf. He had never really liked it, as it showed her with such a serious look on her face.

The figurative rope of doom around his chest was immediately pulled closer an inch or two. He'd always done his best to make her happy, to change that serious look into her beautiful smile, to make her laugh. She had been so excited about the upcoming wedding. Old sorrows and pains had seemed to be forgotten. It had been the reason why he had planned to visit a photographer soon after the wedding date and replace the picture with a happier one. It had never come to that.

But after he found out what she had done, what she had intended to do, why she had done it... after everything that had happened, he was actually grateful, that the picture didn't show her smiling beautifully. He took it off the shelf and upstairs.

Back in the bedroom he opened his bedside cabinet and pulled out the small wooden box that contained her letters and the shred of her underskirt from that momentous evening when he first met her. Her hastily written message was still readable. He remembered that evening in vivid details.

It had been his first visit at one of Stratfords local pubs, after he had supported the war mages for the second time. Well, the second time he had saved their collective asses anyway. Otherwise that damned Acéphale would have wiped the floor with them.

That evening Jonas had practically forced him to join the collective victory-party. He'd agreed, but after the day he'd had it hadn't been the drinks that had pulled him in. No, he recalled that he had other things in mind.

The memory brought him back to the here and now with a vengeance. It increased the gnawing hunger deep in his bones, the craving, his unfulfilled need. It was physically painful, like fire burning through his veins. He wouldn't give in though. Never. He'd rather kill himself than becoming that creatures slave.  
John clenched his fist tight around the peace of cloth, feeling his nails digging into his skin. Ironically it had been Ruth who had kept him from feeding that night in the pub.

He clearly remembered the moment when he first met her. The small pub had been crowded that night and the noise hard on his sensitive ears. The smoke of countless cigarettes hung in the air like a cloud. On his way to the bar he had scanned the crowd as usual.

He had noticed her, having a beautiful face, dark hair and slender figure. Somehow she was different from the other women in the pub. It had been obvious that she didn't fit in there. Her radiation practically screamed that she didn't want to be here, that she didn't belong. The serious look on her face and the sad but longing expression in her eyes had made him curious.

One of the mages had noticed his gaze. John couldn't remember his name, but the words he'd said to him.  
"Forget it man, she's the innkeepers' daughter. Everyone knows that she's… well, acting all weird sometimes and telling no to everybody. Honestly, we're coming here for more than 5 years and never she took a single offer. Better spare yourself getting a mitten." He had actually clapped him on the shoulder. The guy had been drunk off his ass already.

She had been busy talking to her father and so he had headed for the bar. The moment he had passed by closely behind her he had felt it. And obviously she had, too. She cut her conversation mid sentence and turned around to look at him, her eyes widened with surprise. It had felt like time had stopped for a second.

But that one look was all they had shared for the moment, because she had quickly turned back to her father and then he had gone for the bar. After that she had suddenly vanished, but the look in her eyes wouldn't leave his mind. His predatory nature combined with his natural curiosity had almost forced him to go after her. So he went out back, to see if there was a second entrance to the flat above the pub.

As soon as he'd left the building a peace of cloth had fallen down from one of the windows above, showing a hastily scribbled message.  
"Be here tomorrow," it said.  
And he had been.

John carefully put the cloth and the picture into the box, before he stuffed it into one of his pockets.  
Feeling slightly numb, he took another draught out of his bottle. He grabbed as much of her stuff as he could carry - which was pretty much the rest of it - and went outside again, his arms filled with a pair of black shoes, her red hairbrush, her huge black hat and some more clothes.

He had almost reached the spot where he had put down the other things, when he was interrupted again. This time John didn't have to wonder who it was.

Jonas' spellboosted voice broke through the silence with a vengeance, combined with a sharp knock on the front door, that practically screamed the authoritarian tone of the senior war mage.

"John, I know you can hear me. Better open the door now or I'll force my way in."

Oh screw that, John muttered to himself, then he closed his eyes and muttered a few syllables. The old protection rune that he had drawn on the front door, seemingly in another lifetime, came to life. It wavered and trembled while changing its shape to show Jonas that he was in the garden, thereby avoiding the necessity to yell it all over the place.

John went on and put the stuff down on the neat pile of female clothes. He took one more gulp out off his bottle before he called fire.


	3. Chapter 3

While he silently watched the burning pile in front of him, standing close enough to feel the searing heat on his skin, Jonas arrived at his side. They just stood there for a while and neither of them said anything.

Jonas finally broke the silence.  
"So, you're back then," he stated the obvious. The authoritarian tone was gone. At least for now. Jonas looked at John, his sharp blue eyes widened slightly behind his thick glasses, while he took in the state of him. He made a face. Obviously he didn't like what he saw.

John couldn't really blame him there. He could pretty much imagine how he must look like, even if he had avoided mirrors lately. The last few weeks in the demon councils' cells hadn't been only hard on his soul, but on his clothes as well. He couldn't seem to remember the last time he shaved and the less said about his hair the better.  
But it was nothing compared to what he felt.

John merely nodded before he emptied the rest of his bottle.

"Yes, well, I'd thought you may not have been shopping for a while, so I brought some tea. There are things I'd like to talk to you about. Where did I… oh, yes, there." He was digging a small brown bag out of his pocket. His weird hair in combination with his thick glasses made him look more than slightly odd.

"I don't think tea is going to fix this, Jonas."  
"Oh, you'd be surprised." A light breeze ruffled his dandelion fluff. "And I'd say you already had enough booze." His eyes took in the empty bottle John had put down on the cracked sundial just a few feet to their right.

John sent him an angry look. There wasn't enough booze on earth.

Jonas ignored him, suspiciously eyeing the vines around the sundial, somewhat lost in his thoughts.  
"Perhaps I should have better brought coffee, instead. You might have mentioned that."  
"Mentioned, Jonas? I don't recall inviting you. How the hell-"  
"Come on John, you surely expected me, didn't you?" He didn't give him time to respond.  
"See, you could have mentioned…" Jonas made some weird up and down gesture in front of him with his hands, as if to take in the situation or his appearance as a whole and in search for the right words.  
"...that," he said with a sigh.

John managed to raise an eyebrow. Finally some amount of the booze had reached his blood system which made it a little hard to focus and was just as well. Jonas' bobbing fluff didn't help.

"Now, would you get the mugs and a teapot then?" It wasn't really a question, but John didn't care. Jonas had the uncanny ability to bring him around the bent within minutes. He decided to better use his chance to take a short break.  
"You better wait outside then, I'm afraid there's something smelly in the kitchen. Best you sit on the bench. I'll get 'em." He started towards the house again.  
"And John?" Jonas serious voice stopped him in mid motion.  
"Yes?"  
"I advise you not to use the ley line right now. I didn't come here alone and you know how it is. Most of the boys fit into the 'shoot first and ask questions later' category. So, just in case."

Despite the fact that John was used to people not trusting him, he had expected that much from Jonas. Nonetheless the disappointment of not being trustworthy was just another hit in his gut. On the other hand, he had to admit that he was a distrusting person himself. Among the corpse he had once heard some rumor about the 'paranoid maniac' and hadn't been sure whether the guy was talking about him or about Jonas.  
"Where should I run to, Jonas?" He asked him, his voice raw and bitter, before he turned and went back into the kitchen.

A few minutes later John emerged back into the garden, carrying two grey empty stonemugs. He found Jonas kneeling beside the newbie war mage, muttering an incantation. John raised an eyebrow, clearly looking a question at him. At least he hoped so.  
"Parsons here was coming around and I figured we'd prefer to talk in private, so I put him out again." Jonas sighed again and shook his head which looked weird somehow with all that bobbing fluffy hair.

"Stupid boy. He was ordered to report, not go after you on his own. He just started training. Ever since I keep telling him that his ambition will get him into serious trouble one fine day, but obviously listening isn't his strong suit." He stood up, took in the two empty mugs and the still empty teapot and looked at John expectantly.  
"Well, if you wouldn't mind?"  
"I… what?"  
"The water, John. Did you hit your head or something?" His expression was honestly curious.  
John sighed resigned. He could recall a few times, but obviously none of which had been hard enough.

He gave the mugs to Jonas and put the teapot on the ground in front of him. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated. Water usually came easily to him when he called, but he must be more drunk than he'd thought. After a few seconds, though, he could feel the water of the river that run by closely. As soon as he felt it, it was calming his nerves, giving a sense of cold and stability and somehow endlessness.

The tight rope around his chest slowly gave him slightly more room. His thoughts cleared, his heartbeat slowed, he could breathe again.  
He unconsciously gestured with his hands, guiding some of the water from the river to him.

To get it into the small teapot was the tricky part. He used his shield and formed it like a funnel, placing it just above the teapot. With a gesture he supported the direction his magic should move and the water followed, slowly, carefully flowing through the shining blue funnel into the teapot beneath.

When it was filled, he let the excess water rain down over the vines, sparkling in the light morning sun.  
For one sweet moment he had practically forgotten the world around him. Had forgotten why he was here, even who - or what - he was. Forgotten about the terrible, burning hunger, buried deep inside of him.

"Now, that was... interesting." Jonas' voice forced him to remember that he had company. Lately he had become used to being alone again, had even welcomed it eventually.  
"I'd actually meant the fountain, John, but you never fail to surprise. You know, I'd been pretty sure about the water before, what with your shields and all, but then I watched you calling fire earlier...So fire and water." Jonas frowned. "You don't get to see that very often. Anything else you might want to tell me?"

The light breeze took this moment to turn into a stronger wind. It caught in the vines, rustling and moving them, almost as if they had come alive again. Oddly the same was true for Jonas' hair. But Jonas' eyes were clearly focused on the vines. Since he knew what damage they could do, John couldn't blame him. He deliberately ignored the question.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonas had walked ahead to the bench which was seated in a comfortable distance to the fire, close enough to feel the warmth but far enough from being uncomfortably hot. John put the teapot on the ground next to the fire to heat the water, before he sat down on the bench next to him. Apparently Jonas didn't want to push him, or at least not before the tea was ready. They silently watched until the first bubbles emerged from the now boiling water. Jonas got up and let some of the contents of the small bag fall into the mugs. He took the teapot away from the fire and waited until it slightly cooled down before he infused the tea. As soon as the water hit the leaves John could smell the familiar scent of bergamot. Ah, Earl Grey then.

Jonas opened his tweed jacket and unerringly grabbed a small vial from his potion belt. Without further investigation he poured some of it into his mug before he handed it to John.

John decided not to comment about the possibilities of milk in line with lethal substances, poisons and other dangerous potions. But he discreetly sniffed on the vial - just for sure - before he poured some into his mug.  
"Is there a chance you have some lemon in there?" John asked, pointing on Jonas' pockets. It had become a habit. He remembered how Ruth had always insisted on a few drops of lemon juice. Her voice had gone deadly serious, when she explained that this was the only real way to enjoy the tea properly.

The choking rope around John's chest came back with force. Until now he hadn't even realized that it had been gone for a while. Oddly the tea preparation and the talk about trivialities had been distracting enough to calm his pain for a while.  
Interesting.

But then the realization hit, that despite everything that had happened, he missed her. Within their short time together he had become used to her quirks, to the way she moved around him, with her countless unconscious touches, that had sent small sparks of pleasure and warmth through him every time. He had really loved her.

After a few more minutes he was the one to break the silence.  
"Would you finally tell me, what the hell you told your war mage colleagues?" he asked, torn between anger and curiosity.  
"Well, the usual of course. When you had just vanished after your wedding I figured you were into some spontaneous honeymoon or something," he looked a question at him.  
John closed his eyes and counted to ten. He slightly shook his head, which was all he could manage. You can do this, damn coward, he reproved himself.

When Jonas realized that he wouldn't elaborate, he continued. "But when you didn't return for weeks and then months… We had a few duties for you and left messages, but you just didn't show up... You were reported missing for the first five years. After that I had to... _exaggerate_ a little in a manner of speaking."  
John didn't like how he'd emphasized that, not at all. He waited for it to come.

"You know, they considered to sell your house, deliberately ignoring that it had already been sold to you and I figured, if you ever came back to find out that your house was sold, including your belongings... well, you'd probably blame it on me then and… we both wouldn't want that, would we?" He stated the last matter of factly and didn't wait for him to respond before he continued. After all they were past that.

"Ever since, the house was my responsibility, so I had to make sure that it didn't stab me in the back somehow. Of course I didn't have the time to watch myself, which was why I had to improvise, you might say. See, the circle isn't really big on spending money or men on unnecessary causes these days, well, I guess it never really had been-"  
"JONAS! WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM?" It was physically hard to keep himself from grabbing the mage and shaking him until he finally told him what the hell.

"Now John, I would if you'd let me." Most men would have been impressed or even frightened by the tone in John's voice or the glare he'd sent Jonas. But obviously he wasn't most men. After all he was the circles second in command for a reason.

Jonas' voice was still calm when he continued.  
"There had been a lot of rumors...I decided to give them a little support. Making some hints when the Lord Protector was around, you know. Some clues to-"  
"JONAS!"  
"Yes, yes. All in all I let the Lord Protector know that you might have deserted or transitioned into the demon realms, which considering your heritage and knowledge... "

"In other words you told him I might be a traitor, or at least a serious danger to the circle." It wasn't a question.  
"Indeed. It was the best way to ensure that the house wouldn't be sold - for obvious security reasons - and would be well watched for years." Jonas was visibly pleased with himself.

John sighed. The last thing he had needed was to give the circle a reason to watch him too closely. They had been suspicious before - it was practically within their job description - but they would be even more so now.  
Wonderful.  
Just _fucking_ perfect.

Every damn time he thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse, because it would be just impossible to get any worse…

He took a sip of his tea.


	5. Chapter 5

You know, that's the main reason why I had to bring back up." Jonas looked apologetic. "When Parsons here couldn't reach me, he told the Lord Protector that somebody had triggered your wards. And he insisted on the... additional help."  
So at least Jonas trusted him enough to have come alone. Or he trusted his own capability enough. Well, that was something, John thought.

"I ordered them to wait in the ley line to...assess the situation myself. Which turned out to be the right thing to do." Jonas voice got all serious again. "John, you look like hell. I've seen you survive some really tough… situations before, but... Do you remember that fight with the slimy men-eating demon attacking that village near Birmingham? It honestly caused me some nightmares man, seeing you walk out of that catastrophic mess, pulling that creatures' severed horrible head behind you..." Jonas shook his head as if he still couldn't quite believe what he'd seen.

"When I came here, I'd intended to offer you a job. But then I saw the state you're in... I honestly don't know if you're up to it. It would certainly help, if you'd finally tell me what happened!" That expectant look was back in his face, impatience slowly sneaking into his voice, but so far the curiosity still prevailed.

"Believe me Jonas, the less you know, the better." When Jonas started to protest John stopped him with a harsh gesture. "I can't tell you, even if I wanted to. It would be too dangerous to know, even for you." Yet another part of himself, he had to keep under wraps. He felt sorry that he couldn't tell him the truth. But it was out of question.

"I sure as hell won't make you become such a target. Not intentionally." John's voice was serious and incredibly calm compared to the chaos of emotions raging inside him. And it was true. He only hoped that Jonas would leave it to that.  
"Not even a little-"  
"If I told you, I might just kill you myself here and now," he spat and got up. He needed to move and started to pace about.  
Jonas raised a single eyebrow. "Assuming you could, don't you? I wouldn't be so sure about that, you know? I mean, on a good day, well, yes, you might, but right now…"

John stopped to glare at Jonas. He let the strong grip on his mental shield loosen only a little and immediately his anger, fury and despair radiated off him like a storm.  
"I take it, that's a no," Jonas resigned, clearly disappointed.  
"Damn straight!"

It was Jonas' turn to take a sip of his tea, seeming somehow lost in his thoughts. After a few minutes of silently watching Johns' nervous pacing, he broke the silence again.  
"Even if I do not know what the hell happened to you, I think I could offer you a job anyway. But you have to promise me, that you'll be honest with me. Lives may depend on it so, please think about it before you answer."  
"What job?" John asked with a growl, he wasn't exactly enthusiastic at the idea to work for the circle again, but he couldn't afford to let him - and the possible amount of money - down easily.

"Well, I'm afraid that we have a serious lack of demon experts within the corps. Our latest experiences proved that we could really use someone with...inside knowledge." Jonas hesitated. "You know, to advise the commanders about necessary combat preparation and to… teach the trainees." Jonas looked a little uncertain himself.

"You can't be bloody serious! I mean… damnit, can you honestly imagine me standing in a classroom teaching a bunch of 'Parsons'? Me? And after all you've told them? No way, Jonas. Just no." John wildly shook his head. There had been a few occasions before, when he had strongly suspected that Jonas was nuts. He was pretty sure of that now.

"You'll have to find someone else to-" Jonas interrupted him with a conciliatory gesture.  
"I knew you were going to say that," he grinned. "Thank you."  
"You thought so? Then why did you-" Obviously he was missing something here.  
"Thank me...for what...exactly?"  
"You just won me 50 £."  
"You bet on my response?!" Considering his current situation this was… ridiculous. But somehow he wasn't nearly as surprised as he should have been.  
"It was worth a try. Maybe you'll come around to that later-"  
"No."  
"Yes, well, nonetheless there's one alternative I think I can offer you, under certain conditions. If you don't like to teach the trainees and to advise the commanders how to fight different kinds of demons...you may prefer to do the fighting yourself?" Jonas looked expectantly at him and the quickly added "of course with support if necessary?!"

John thought about it for a moment, still pacing up and down because... yeah. So far the idea didn't sound so bad, but under certain conditions… If it weren't for his healing abilities he was sure he'd already have a serious migraine. Jonas just flat had that effect on him.

"What conditions?" he asked suspiciously.  
Jonas' eyes visibly brightened as if he'd already agreed to anything, which was just a little disturbing.  
"Fine, fine! Let's see… most of it would be the same as it had been 10 years ago, if you'd remember? Accepting the circles rules, writing reports, stuff like that."  
"What about the weapons? And potions?"  
"I can grant you access to the circles weaponry and potion sellers."  
John tried to figure out where the snag was.  
"To the official ones or to all of them?" John asked innocently.  
Jonas sent him a sharp look.  
"All of them," he muttered.

Good to know, for some reason John doubted that Jonas was merely going all generous buddy all of a sudden, he had to be almost desperate. John decided, he might get more out off the bargaining in this case.  
"If I should fight some of those vial creatures, I'll do it my way. And if you intend to merely imprison them, you have the wrong guy. I prefer a more permanent solution." John had enough dangerous demons on his ass, caused by his heritage. He didn't need to add some furious out of jail demons with revenge on their minds.

"I would hope so. I know as well as you do that imprisoning the more dangerous demons isn't going to end well," Jonas shrugged, still looking pleased. He talked about killing some probably ancient demons as if he would talk about the weather.

It occured to John that this was going way too easy.  
"You said 'most of it'. What other conditions do you have?"  
"What?... Oh yes, well, you'd have to join the corps of course. Mainly for bureaucratic reasons and to… well, to convince the others that you could be trusted."  
"With joining the corpse, you mean…?"  
"You'll become a war mage, with all the resulting consequences - low but regular payment, long hours, recurrent death traps and the chance to save lives by killing dangerous things." This actually didn't sound too bad. But Jonas didn't stop there. "Of course you'd have to pass the trials first. But I'm confident that you will."

"The trials? You intend for me to pass the war mage training?" John wasn't quite sure yet what he should think about that. "They're taking what? Four years? Five?"  
"Oh, five usually. But I'm sure I could motivate the council for an exception, for a short cut in your case. I mean, you already proved that you can fight and shield and know how to use your magic. Nonetheless there are three mandatory courses, lasting one week each. After that you could apply for the trials. They won't be much of a problem for you."

"No offense Jonas, but I doubt that the circles council would make such an exception, especially for me. Not without a really good reason. So, what aren't you telling me?" John certainly wasn't at his best at the moment, but he wasn't stupid. The circle had its reason not to trust him after all. Why should they suddenly support him? None of the reasons he could think of seemed appealing.

Jonas looked caught.  
"I'm afraid this information is classified. You will just have to trust me with that. Maybe I could tell you, if you'd agree to join?"  
"I have a few conditions as well."  
Jonas rolled his water blue eyes.  
"I was afraid you'd say that."  
John gave him an evil grin in return.

"First of all, I want my own room at HQ." That much for the easy part, John thought. "Second, well, you know that I'm part demon, there's no point in denying it whatsoever. To be honest, you already know more about me than most people. And I intend to keep it that way, which is why I need your help." John paused, searching for a way to put it right.

"Rumors are one thing. I don't really give a damn. But knowledge… with knowledge it is different. Knowledge could be dangerous. I have… reasons to not want people know too much about me, especially about my past or my heritage. I will join the corps if you agree to help me cover up my heritage and if you promise me to never do any further research on me yourself. Absolutely none. Never. Not through third people, not using tricks or other ways to avoid the promise. Nothing. Swear it." John's voice was low and even.  
"And third, I want a new coat."

Jonas' eyes narrowed. "Talking about rumors… Last thing I heard was that some part human maniac had actually managed to get thrown out of hell. Literally. I figured you might know something about that?" Jonas asked innocently.  
John winced slightly. Jonas' sources of information were astonishingly quick.  
"Yes."  
"Could you elaborate that?"  
"Yes." John answered, his tone just as innocent.  
"Well, would you, then?"  
"No."  
"Oh for god's...Why did I even ask?" he muttered more to himself, slightly shaking his head.  
John didn't bother to respond.

It seemed Jonas had used the time to think about the deal. "You'll get your own office, I can grant you that much and the coat won't be a problem. But the promise... Don't you think this is asked a bit too much? To help you cover up whatever the hell it is you've done without even knowing? This could really… backfire on me, don't you think?"  
Considering that Jonas' classified information would almost certainly contain some potentially lethal surprise for him, he wasn't exactly sorry.  
"Let me say it in your words Jonas. I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me with that."

Jonas calmly emptied the rest of his tea, before he got up and put forth his hand.  
"Agreed."  
God, he must be desperate. Considering the topic they were discussing this was somewhat frightening. Nonetheless John took the offered hand, really hoping that this wouldn't bite him in his ass one day. It wasn't like he had much joice anyway.  
"Agreed."


	6. Chapter 6

"There's just one more thing," Jonas said.  
"What now?"  
"I can't bring you to the Lord Protector looking like that. You definitely need to take a bath first. Does your fountain work? In that case I'd wait. Otherwise I'd have to...uhm… accompany you to the HQ showers. You'd rather not go there alone before I… Well, just don't, okay?"

There were so many things wrong with that.

"Why would you bring me to the Lord Protector?"  
"I need to convince him, that you aren't a threat to us, or did you forget that?" Jonas asked dryly, but John could have sworn that his cheeks reddened slightly.  
"And you can't do this alone because?" John wouldn't let him have an easy way out. "Out with it Jonas".  
"Oh well," Jonas sighed "okay, we'll split the money. 60:40, if you like, you know, it was my idea after all so, I think this would be-" John grabbed him on his shoulders. He was strongly suspecting what money the mage was talking about, but he wanted him to spell it out.

"Jonas! WHAT MONEY?"  
"The reward of course!"  
He knew it.  
"How much?"  
"5.000 £"  
"Bugger! You've got to be kidding me!" That was insane, but it explained something. "Please tell me it isn't a 'dead or alive' bounty." It wouldn't be logical but considering his life nowadays...

Jonas looked seriously outraged. "Of course not. What do you think? I just figured, that either you or me could certainly use the money if you ever came back and... among the two of us, the Lord Protector had been seriously annoying lately. Stuck me with a ton of paperwork and punished me with the leading position at the Pythian court security, only for opening my mouth on some questionable decisions."  
"50:50" John stated.  
"If you'll finally get some water over you."  
"Consider it done."

John knew that Jonas had had a point, but he didn't really care and he'd been right about the bath as well. After being out of use for more than a decade he was pretty sure it wouldn't work anyway. Luckily he didn't need it. John started to put his weapons onto the bench. With most of his weapons confiscated he had only two visible knives, three hidden knives and his mostly empty potion belt left to take off. When Jonas realized what he was about to do, he stood up, grabbing the two mugs and the teapot.

"I'll put those back into the kitchen in the meantime." He started towards the house, but stopped besides Parsons.  
"You know," Jonas frowned, while he bent down to check his pulse "you might buy one of those new electric coffee machines." He looked at John "Guess he'd come around soon."  
John nodded absently. "They invented an electric coffee machine?" he couldn't hide the astonishment in his voice.  
Now, that was definitely progress. John decided, that things were looking up.

"Yes, well, it's a bit expensive but you could fill in water and coffee and then you just have to push a button." Jonas made gestures with his hands as if he had an invisible coffee machine in front of him, his eyes sparkling with excitement.  
"I'll think about it." He definitely needed such an engineering marvel.  
Jonas grinned satisfied and went into the house.

John welcomed Jonas' gesture to give him some privacy, even if he wouldn't have bothered him. After dropping his weapons and his coat on the bench he pulled off the poor remains of his filthy shirt and threw it into the still burning fire. His trousers followed. Then he called water from the river to him again. This time it came easily, feeling smooth and soothing.

He let the cold water shower down on himself. Despite the low temperature it felt nice, prickling on his skin, refreshing. Standing pretty close to the fire he didn't mind the cold even when goosebumps showed up on his forearms. He needed to concentrate on using his magic to guide the water that flowed with it, thereby he pushed away his hate, his fury, his loneliness for a few more moments of peace. John felt how his muscles relaxed, the tension being washed away together with the filth and sweat. Combined with the feeling of the water on his face, his shoulders and his back it was amazing, calming, fascinating.

John wondered why he hadn't done this for such a long time. In the time before he had his own bathroom this had been his favorite way of getting clean and refreshed. Now he remembered why.

He took his time to enjoy the improvised shower, but after a few more minutes the ground couldn't take the amount of water anymore and the first puddles reached the fire with a sizzling sound. John decided it was enough. He used some of the water to put out the fire, before he went back to the house to get himself a towel. Jonas had already learned too much about him today, he didn't have to know about the wind as well.

It was time to find out about Jonas' classified information after all. And, crazy as it seemed, for the first time in years he had at least something to look forward to.

The end.


End file.
